


Uneasy

by Hawke



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, No Sex, No Sexual Content, No beta we kayak like Tim, Prompt Fill, but still implied/attemped date rape, so im tagged it as rape on the warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28954845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawke/pseuds/Hawke
Summary: Prompt fill: "The archival assistants coax Jon into coming to a pub night with them. Through various circumstances, he ends up left on his own. Not for too long, they're not trying to be shitty. Maybe Sasha and Tim are off doing karaoke, and Martin's in the restroom, so Jon's left sitting by the bar with nothing to do but feel uncomfortable. Someone slips something into his drink when he's not looking. The others come back soon enough and whoever did it is scared off, but Jon starts feeling the effects as the night goes on. It takes the others an embarrassingly long time to notice something's wrong."
Comments: 22
Kudos: 120
Collections: Rusty Kink





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for https://rusty-kink.dreamwidth.org/1380.html?thread=714852#cmt714852
> 
> My intent is to write a second chapter from the persepective of the others, including the fallout, but we'll see if my brain lets me focus on one thing that long.

Jon doesn’t drink much. 

It’s not that he doesn’t like it, he certainly had a good time in college after gigs, and the gentle buzz at the back of his mind was pleasant (even if the decreased ability to form coherent thoughts was not). 

So, when he finally accepted Tim's offer to accompany the archival assistants to a bar one Friday afternoon, he made sure to keep his drinking slow. No need to embarrass himself in front of the other three, he knew that his size made him particularly susceptible to alcohol, and his minimal drinking since college wouldn’t help. 

When they got to the local Wetherspoons, Sasha snagged four seats at the end of the bar. Over the din of the crowd, she called out, "No booths at the moment, but they’ll find us when one clears."

"Excellent!" Tim called back, waving down the bar staff, "it’s a lot easier to get shots at the bar! First round's on me!"

Judging by the groans from Sasha and Martin, at least they were similar levels of not keen for the situation. Regardless, they each received a shot of the 'five-poundiest vodka you have'. 

"To our head archivist!" Tim called out, throwing a hand over Jon's shoulder and grinning as he downed his shot. 

Reluctantly, the other three echoed his call and downed their own shots. 

Jon ordered himself a cider quickly, before Tim could engage in any further rapid intoxication. 

"Boss, you're no fun!" 

"I just want to be able to stumble home after all of this, Tim."

"Lightweight."

They spent the next few drinks chatting about work (cursed), Elias (creepy), the new guy in research (cute) and the weather (shitty). 

Sasha's eyes perked up as the karaoke machine started to free up at the other end of the bar. 

"Jon, you should come sing. Tim has a great voice." 

Jon froze up for a moment, terror rushing through him at the thought of his assistants somehow discovering a certain steampunk space pirate band if he did any singing. 

"Ah, I don't sing. I'm sure Martin would love to come though." 

"I was actually going to take a leak. You'll be fine at the bar Jon?"

Jon scoffed, "what am I going to do? Get kidnapped?"

The others laughed and headed off to the head/karaoke machine. Jon watched for a while, Tim did have a nice voice, although not as good as other people named Tim. 

Jon turned back to the bar to sip at his drink, and almost collided with someone who had sat down right next to him. 

"Oh sorry, was this seat taken?" A middle-aged man in clean pressed clothes smiled charmingly, sitting in Tim's seat. 

"Ah, well, I guess - " 

"Good then," he interrupted, holding out a hand to shake, "I'm Salis."

Jon automatically returned the handshake, "Jon."

"So, Jon, what's a fun guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Jon found himself inexorably tied into the conversation with this 'Salis'. It would have been rude to leave, and it wasn't like there was anything wrong with talking to him? Despite that, there was an edge of uneasiness in the back of Jon's mind that he couldn't quite put his finger on. 

He drained the rest of his drinking, hoping to smother the uncomfortable feeling. Ugh. The dregs were always disgusting, a salty and bitter tang that reminded him once again of college, squeezing every last sip of alcohol to make limited funds run as far as he could.

"Hey Jon," Martin sat down on Jon's other side, "Sorry, the line to the bathroom was insane." 

Salis glared at Martin, "a friend of yours then?" 

Jon nodded, "uh, yeah. Salis, this is Martin. Martin, this is - " Jon cut himself off as Salis stood up. 

"A waste of time." He shook his head and walked away. 

Jon scowled in confusion, "weird, we had just been chatting."

Martin shrugged, "weird."

They didn't have a chance to talk further about it, as Sasha and Tim reappeared. 

"They've got a booth for us." 

Everyone ordered another drink, and they made their way to a booth that was somewhere between cramped and cosy. 

"So, Jon, you enjoy my singing?" Tim asked, grinning.

"It was alright."

"Alright? Alright!" Tim started on a mock rant about his beautiful singing voice, and the number of women and men who had said it was the best ever. 

Jon sunk into the booth, letting the words wash over him as he basked in the social interaction and the gentle rising buzz at the back of his mind. 

It could have been minutes later or hours later when he felt a poke in the shoulder. 

"You alright Jon?" Gentle voice. Martin?

"mmmhh." Jon rolled his eyes over to Martin's face and realised he'd slumped into the larger man. 

Sasha laughed, "he is such a lightweight."

Martin and Tim laughed too, and Jon felt the uneasiness in the back of his mind rise up. Yes, he was a lightweight, but he hadn’t had that many drinks. One shot, one cider with everyone, the cider he'd drunk with Salis, and then the half cider in front of him, over the course of ... At least an hour. 

Jon opened his mouth to talk, or he tried to. 

He - he couldn't open his mouth. 

A spark of adrenaline, tiny and insignificant, tried to thread its way through Jon, but it was like he was immune.

" - water Jon? Don't want you getting a hangover." A feminine voice, and a straw appeared at his lips. 

Jon couldn’t suck on the water, couldn't part his lips, couldn't move his hand to push the water away or stand up and shout or say _something is wrong something is wrong something is **wrong.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit - when writing the second chapter, i checked the first one for continuety's sake. I realised i had written 'Friday arvo'. It occured to me that i didn't know if the brits say 'arvo', and google said they dont. 
> 
> So i've changed that. If anyone picks up any other aussie slang that i missed, please let me know. I already had to write 'five poundiest vodka' instead of 'five-dollariest', which i guess is technically a brooklyn 99 joke and not an australian slang, but me and my mates say it enough that it feels home grown. 
> 
> (do the brits have casual friday? well thats in chapter two)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***sirens play in the background***  
> this is a chapter from the perspective of Dipshit Attempted Rapist (and actual rapist, as you can pick from context clues) Salis.  
> He thinks some dodgy shit, including some victim blaming.  
> I was going to do this chapter as the aftermath from the perspective of the archival assistants, but then i didnt. :/ Still planning to do that though, and will probs be sometime this or next week.

The real trick was to find the ones who wouldn't walk away.

Yeah yeah, you wanted to make sure they were alone (or would be alone long enough), but it was the polite ones, the civil ones, the ones who spent their days filling out paperwork and gossiping at the water cooler. 

Those ones, they were used to bad small-talk and awkward conversations, and they were used to grinning and bearing it. 

They were too polite to walk away. 

Salis sipped on his drink, eyes roaming around the bar. A group of young women in business wear were laughing with each other at a booth, but they were unlikely to split up. He mourned the march of progress for a moment, women were too cautious nowadays to leave one of their own alone. 

However, there. Three men and a woman. One was in a garish Hawaiian shirt and another in a soft jumper, likely due to causal Friday at their workplace. The other two were obviously more career minded, in a pencil dress and button up and sweater vest. 

Any of those four, although he got the sense that the best bet was sweater vest or jumper. Sweater vest seemed the perfect balance of awkward and polite, and jumper seemed the type to cave to anything.

He continued watching the bar, spotting a few other good picks. Soon, his eyes were drawn back to the four at the bar. 

" - would love to come though." Sweater vest said. The others were moving off? 

Jumper responded, "I was actually going to take a leak. You'll be fine at the bar Jon?"

Sweater vest (Jon apparently) scoffed, "what am I going to do? Get kidnapped?"

Well, not kidnapped. The other three laughed and stood up. And Salis waited a moment before moving in. 

The lines at the toilets here were awful, they were shared with two other clubs and a restaurant, and there was only one unisex cubicle. Sweater vest - Jon's friends would be gone a while between that and the karaoke. 

Salis moved up to the bar, pretending to sip his drink and wait for the bar staff. Instead, he watched Jon and his drink out of the corner of his eye. 

Jon himself was distracted, watching his friends sing some god awful punk song. What an idiot, he wasnt even covering his drink. Honestly, if Salis didnt do this, then someone else would, someone worse. 

He was doing Jon a favour.

After a quick glance around to make sure no-one was watching, Salis expertly dropped some powdered roofie into the drink. 

Not a moment too soon, as Jon turned around and almost slammed into him. 

Showtime. 

Salis plastered a charming smile on his face, "oh sorry, was this seat taken?"

Jon spluttered, "Ah, well, I guess - " 

"Good then," Salis responded, banking on Jon's politeness, he held out a hand to shake, "I'm Salis."

Just as planned, Jon automatically returned the handshake, "Jon."

Given Jon's slight frame, it would be ten to fifteen minutes before he began to feel the drug's effects. Time to get him drinking and time to get him talking. 

"So, Jon, what's a good liking guy like you doing in a place like this?"

They spoke for a while, and Jon kept sipping at his drink. He kept the charm turned on, although had absolutely zero care for the issues of misfiled paperwork or badly textured food. God, academics were so lame. 

Jon downed the rest of his drink, his face already showing mild confusion, perfect. Salis smiled, ready to make his move, when Jumper returned from the toilet. 

Damn. 

"Hey Jon," Jumper sat down on Jon's other side, "Sorry, the line to the bathroom was insane." 

Salis glared at Jumper, "a friend of yours then?" Damn, he couldn't deal with both of them. The line hadn't been long enough. 

Jon nodded, "uh, yeah. Salis, this is Martin. Martin, this is - " Salis stood up, cutting Jon off. 

"A waste of time." He shook his head and walked away. A waste of money too. 

Salis left the bar and headed towards a club nearby. Maybe better luck there?

He was walking by an alley, when a voice echoed out. 

"Can I have a cigarette?" 

Salis felt a smile grow on his face. The voice wasn't quite right, whoever wanted a smoke was drunk, or drugged, or something already. 

Perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into my man Tim. Timmy boy. Mr Stoker. The Man in the Hawaiian shirt (maybe). Bisexual distaster dude. Angy sad man. Wall-kayaking in heaven with Mike Crew chucking him off buildings man. Wouldve been a great outdoorsy vast avatar fella.

Getting Jon to go to the bar was an absolute nightmare. 

Tim was a go-lucky, chill, fun, hot, friendly dude. But sometimes (most of the time), Jon tested his patience. 

He had ridiculous expectations of the archival assistants, beyond what a boss should be expecting, and he would never do anything social with them!

Honestly, it was a miracle that Tim managed to con Jon into going to the local 'spoons one Friday, and he made sure to drag him, Martin and Sasha there straight from work so that Jon couldn’t change his mind. 

Unfortunately, with the late hour that Jon insisted on staying to finish work, there weren’t any booths left when they arrived. Sasha organised for them to be on the list, and they had their first shots at the bar. 

Now, Tim hadn't brought them to this particular Wetherspoons just because it was close to the institute. It also housed a dodgy old karaoke machine. And Tim had definitely heard Jon singing late one night a few months ago. Deep and passionate, Tim desperately wanted to hear Jon sing again, and share it with Sasha and Martin. 

When he declined to join them at the machine, Tim grinned, there would be time enough to lower Jon's inhibitions and get him up there. 

The line wasn't too long, and eventually he and Sasha were belting out Green Day's Warning, followed by Muse's Psycho. Absolute bangers. Tim was ready to join the line and throw out another two songs, when one of the staff approached Sasha. 

"Sasha James?"

"Yes?"

"We've got a booth free, number 8."

"Thanks!"

As they headed back to the bar, Tim saw a middle-aged man walk away from Jon and Martin, scowling. 

Nice to know that Jon was pissing people off everywhere he went, not just at the archives. 

With drinks in hand, Tim slid into the boot next to Sasha.

"So, Jon, you enjoy my singing?" he asked, grinning.

"It was alright," Jon responded non-committedly.

"Alright? Alright! I'll have you know that at least seven partners have declared my voice to be 'beautiful', and I won several singing competitions in my youth. Tell him Sasha, tell him that I have a beautiful voice."

Sasha rolled her eyes, "Not much point Tim, I think he's heading out."

Tim looked over at Jon and groaned, "How many drinks did he have?"

Jon had slid down into the booth and was bonelessly slumped onto Martin. 

Martin gently shook Jon's shoulder, trying to get his attention, "you alright Jon?" 

Jon's response was not encouraging, a muffled "mmmhh."

Sasha laughed, "he is such a lightweight."

"What do you reckon? If he's done, it'll be easier to take him somewhere before he passes out properly."

Sasha nodded, "finish your drinks then, I'll grab some water from the bar, then I reckon we head back to mine."

Tim stood up to let Sasha out, and then threw himself back into the booth. 

"Honestly Martin, your crush comes to one Friday drinks, and now I have to make sure he doesn't drown in his own vomit."

Martin scowled, "you're the one who made him come Tim."

"I know, I know," Tim sighed, "I know. It's just annoying."

"Maybe next time he can drink water."

"I just have no idea how he got so messed up on, what? One shot and two ciders? I know he barely cracks five two, but he'd gotta have more body mass than that."

Martin shrugged, "he might have had more drinks while I was in the head, the line was long and I was gone for like twenty minutes."

Sasha returned with the water before Tim could decide whether his boss would have done shots at the bar without him. 

"Good idea on the straw, Sash."

Martin propped Jon up as best he could, and Sasha put the straw to Jon's lips. 

"Do you want some water Jon? Don't want you getting a hangover." 

Jon rolled his eyes blankly towards the cup but didn't attempt to take any. 

Sasha scowled, "sorry the water isn't to your taste Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute."

"Tell us how you really feel Sasha," Tim muttered, finishing his drink and dumping a fiver on the table, "Bloody typical that he's ruined my night too."

"Do you think we can get him back to Sasha's place without a taxi?"

Tim nodded, "I forgot you've not been there before, it's only a five-minute walk."

Maybe it was the air, or maybe it was the movement through the streets, but Jon seemed to sober up as they walked to Sasha's place. By the time they arrived, Tim was more guiding him along the footpath than carrying him. 

Although his still did drag his shoes. And slumped into Tim every second step. 

It wasn't great, but it was an improvement. 

Thankfully, the apartment had an elevator, making it easy to get upstairs, and Tim unceremoniously dumped Jon on the couch when they got inside.

"Maybe he'll have some water now?" Martin asked. 

Sasha nodded and grabbed a cup of water. 

"Here Jon," she said, holding it under his mouth, "drink up buddy."

Jon drunk the water, vacant expression on his face and a decent chunk of water dribbling down his chest. 

Tim scowled, honestly, now they were at the part of the night where everyone got to force feed their boss some water, so he didn't get a hangover? Just because he drank too much. And then probably watch him so he didn't choke on his own vomit. Just great. 

"Can't believe he drank that much. Honestly, if he was such a lightweight then he should have paced himself," Tim muttered. 

Sasha pursed her lips and shook her head, "I don't know if he did drink that much Tim. I wasn't watching him the whole time, but he only drunk that one shot with us, then his cider when we were singing, and then a few sips of a second cider in the booth."

Tim shook his head, "how else could he get this fucked up then?"

Martin gasped, "oh god. I just. I just realised. When I got back to the bar he was talking with some sleezy guy who left as soon as I got there. He said something like 'wasting his time' or 'a waste of time'. You don’t think... Like you don’t reckon he did something?"

The three of them looked over at Jon, who was slumped almost completely sideways on the couch, eyes unfocussed and empty. 

Sasha gently shook at Jon's shoulder, "can you hear me? Jon?"

His eyelids fluttered, but there was no other response. 

"I don't think it was just alcohol." Sasha said. 

Tim felt a rush of guilt, someone was wrong with Jon and he'd been too busy caught up in his drinking night. 

"Should we call 999?" Tim asked. 

Martin shook his head, "I don't know. It doesn't feel like an emergency, he's still breathing and everything. I guess we could ask 111 for advice?"

"What are we going to say?" Sasha asked, "we don't know if he's actually been drugged, or if he's just drunk."

"I guess maybe they can tell us what to look out for? Or if we need to take him to A&E?"

Tim nodded, "I think it’s a good idea, they could give some good advice."

Sasha stepped into the kitchen with her phone, and Martin took over trying to coax some water into Jon. 

Tim reached over and grabbed Jon's hand, limply dangling from the side of the couch. It was cold and clammy but twitched as Tim held it. 

"I dunno what's happened boss, but I want you to know that we'll help you, alright?"

There was no visual response, but Tim was certain the hand squeezed back. 

Ten minutes later, Sasha came back from the kitchen. "Basically, they said to keep him in the recovery position. If he stops breathing or does anything else bad, then call an ambulance or take him to A&E. Take him to the GP tomorrow morning to be checked over, but if it's roofies then he'll come around in the next four or five hours and there'll be no long-term problems." She paused for a moment before continuing quieter, "no physical ones anyway."

"I reckon we take turns watching him tonight," Martin said, "at least we can get some kind of rest."

Tim and Sasha nodded, although Tim quietly thought that there was no way he would get any sleep tonight, the image of Jon's blank eyes burned into his mind. 

It was a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, not british. I dont know how 111 works, but i found it when trying to find the british version of 13 HEALTH, which is a non-emergency medical line where a trained nurse will give you advice.
> 
> Also, i am not a doctor, but my shiny piece of paper that says 'rural and remote first aid' tells me that you should defs take someone to the A&E if this happens, because you cant be sure it isnt a worse drug or that complications couldnt occur. I just couldnt be assed writing a whole section of the fic like that. :/
> 
> Also, i think this is where i'm going to end the fic. If i start trying to write the aftermath, i wouldnt know when to stop. I may write an epilogue one day, but this is the current 'end' of the fic. 
> 
> Also, big shout out to all the supportive comments on the chapters :) its really helped me write this fic and just be a little less stressed with the, ah, *guestures vaguely at the world*. So thanks :) Y'all are the real heros <3


End file.
